


A Painful Lie (A Beautiful Death)

by Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox



Series: Fated Love (WonTaek) [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Fate & Destiny, I hope to write a sequel, I'm a terrible person, I'm so sorry, Loosely based on Beautiful Liar, M/M, Pining, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox/pseuds/Foxxi_Is_A_Paradox
Summary: If two people are fated to be in love, what happens when one doesn't realize it?-You can now read this fic in Vietnamesehere!Credit for that translation goes to Masijacoke.





	A Painful Lie (A Beautiful Death)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Criminal_Master_Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Criminal_Master_Mine/gifts).



> I want to apologize rn for this angst fest  
> Pls don't kill me  
> This happened because one day I was listening to Fantasy and Wonshik's opening lines hit me right in the feels  
> Again, I'm sorry ;u;

Wonshik was in love with Taekwoon. He knew it and he knew that it would be his undoing. Taekwoon had Hakyeon, he didn’t need Wonshik. He was happy. And that was enough for Wonshik. Yet Wonshik often found himself wishing he was in Hakyeon’s place.

Sometimes he dreamt of Taekwoon. Taekwoon and his silky black hair, his pale skin and his adorable shyness. Taekwoon and his silent smiles and beautiful eyes. Taekwoon who wasn’t his to love, never had been and never would be. That’s why even in his dreams he could only watch from afar, longing and wishing. 

He’d tried to tell himself that it was ok, that the fact that Taekwon loved Hakyeon and nothing would ever change that didn’t bother him, but deep down, he knew it was just a lie he fed himself in order to keep going, to keep up his mask of pretend happiness and false smiles. It was a lie he needed to survive, Wonshik repeatedly told himself, a lie to keep Taekwoon happy. Because all he wanted was for Taekwoon to be happy. 

Still, that didn’t stop him from loving Taekwoon. Even though every time he watched Hakyeon casually kiss Taekwoon on the cheek or hold his hand as they walked together it felt like his heart was being brutally ripped out.

Count on him to be madly in love with someone he could never have. It was too late to go back, Wonshik had fallen and he had fallen hard. Which is why, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been that surprised that one evening when he had felt an itch in his throat, rushed to the bathroom, and coughed till his eyes watered and his throat hurt. 

Blinking through the pain induced tears he’d glanced down at the sink to see the first few bright pink petals standing out against the white of the sink. Bewildered, he’d stared at the petals for a few moments before rinsing his mouth and racing to his computer. 

A few quick searches led him to a condition that matched up with his symptoms. 

Hanahaki.

‘Hanahaki is a rare disease that occurs when two people were fated to be together, but one of them rejects the other.’ one website read. ‘A flower that may or may not be significant to the relationship between the two involved will begin to develop in the lungs of the rejected person.’ 

‘As a result of this, he or she will begin to cough up petals, the coughing fits increasing in frequency and severity over time.’ Wonshik’s eyes widened in disbelief and fear as he read on. ‘If something is not done about it, the flower will continue to grow, ultimately killing the rejected person due to suffocation or choking because of the petals.’ 

Stunned, Wonshik fell back in his chair, still staring dazedly at the screen. He had hanahaki. He was going to die. He was going to die because he loved Taekwoon and Taekwoon didn’t love him. Even though they were apparently fated to be together. 

No… No no no no no this couldn’t be happening.

Wonshik knew holding on to unrequited love wasn't very healthy, but to die because of it? Was that really fair? It really wasn't Taekwoon's fault he didn't love him, he did have many flaws after all.

Frantically, Wonshik scoured the internet for something, anything, to reassure him, to tell him it was okay. 

As he searched he grew more and more desperate until, just when he was on the brink of giving up, he came across an article on a small website which talked extensively about hanahaki. As he read on however, he began to doubt the accuracy of the site.

It seemed to be one of those fortune teller type superstitious sites. Still, for some reason, he kept reading. At first, the article just told him things he already knew but at the end, there was a poem. Reading the poem, Wonshik frowned contemplatively. Then, shaking his head wryly, he chuckled. He really was desperate to even consider believing something like that.

He didn’t find anything after that, so getting up, he slowly made his way to bed.

Wonshik awoke the next morning with an itch in his throat and an irrepressible urge to cough. Jumping out of bed, he raced to the bathroom, reaching it just in time. 

The pink petals spilled from his lips, not very many, but still enough to mean something. He had hanahaki. He was coughing up petals. He was going to die. Because of Taekwoon. 

His vision blurring, he stared down at the petals. The day before, after the website had mentioned that the type of flower petal may be significant to the relationship in question, Wonshik had looked up the type of flower petal and its meaning. He was coughing up pink camellia petals. Pink camellias symbolize desire and longing. What a fitting meaning for the flower that was going to be the tool for his demise.

Because no matter what, Wonshik’s whole world revolved around Taekwoon. Day and night he longed for him. Perhaps this was because, as the website had said, they were a rare ‘fated’ pair. But if so, why didn’t Taekwoon feel the same? Wonshik felt a tear trickle down his face. Was he such an out of place person that even fate couldn’t do anything for him? 

He stared blankly at the petals that lay there, mocking him with their implication before all the pent up resentment and longing he’d kept safely tucked behind his mask of happiness broke out and he fell on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Wonshik spent the whole day on the bathroom floor, crying bitter tears of unrequited love.

-

As the days passed, he became more and more skilled at hiding the petals from his friends. Excuses to leave when he felt a wave of petals coming became easy to concoct. He went out less and when he did, he almost always wore a face mask. It had saved him a few times, like that once when he ran into Taekwoon at the grocery store. 

Taekwoon had just looked so perfect, his soft black hair glinting in the dim lighting. But as always, Hakyeon was there too, teasing Taekwoon and earning small smiles from him.

Wonshik wanted to run away, to go home and scream and cry about how life was unfair but he steeled himself and kept on walking. He wanted ramyeon and ramyeon was too important to give up on. He walked down the aisle making sure not to be seen, soon reaching his destination. Grabbing some packs of instant ramyeon, he turned to quickly leave only to come face to face with Taekwoon and Hakyeon. 

They were happy to see him and it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t even the slightest bit happy to see them (especially Taekwoon). Even though he was insanely jealous of Hakyeon’s status as Taekwoon’s boyfriend, he’d tried his hardest to at least be on good terms with him. Because if he wasn’t, it would definitely upset Taekwoon and Wonshik couldn’t stand it when Taekwoon was sad. And Hakyeon wasn’t a bad person, really. He was always nice to Wonshik. 

Still, it really was inconvenient to run into them of all people, now of all times. He made small talk with the two for a bit, then excused himself, mumbling something about having work to do. He’d almost gotten to the end of the aisle when he felt a wave of petals forcing their way up his throat. 

Quickly setting down his precious ramyeon, he doubled over in deep rasping coughs, the petals quickly filling his facemask. He heard Hakyeon and Taekwoon rushing towards him in concern and his eyes widened in panic. They couldn’t find out. No one could ever know. Forcing himself to stay calm, Wonshik hastily picked up the few stray camellia petals on the floor and shoved them into his pocket. 

Thankfully, the face mask had caught most of the petals, saving him from having to come up with an impossible excuse for the impossible situation. Calmer, he straightened up and let out a breath. After he’d assured the two others that yes, he really was alright and no, he wasn’t dying from tuberculosis, he hurriedly took his leave. 

As soon as he got home, he rushed to the bathroom and threw up the rest of the petals. Chest heaving, he stared down at bright pink camellia petals, which were now tinted with blood. Sighing, he rubbed at his eyes and picked up a few petals that had landed on the floor, flushing them down the toilet with the rest. Since that incident, Wonshik never left his house without a facemask.

-

3 weeks passed since Wonshik realized he had hanahaki. His condition worsened to the point where he could barely speak without feeling a terrible pain in his throat, like he’d swallowed nails. His skin had become rather pale and sickly. He'd lost a lot of weight too, as he could barely eat without coughing up petals. 

He went out less and less, limiting his outings to the supermarket, his favourite cafe and occasionally, the park where he met his friends. They hadn’t picked up on his condition yet and he was glad. Wonshik knew his time was running out. 

Only a week later, Wonshik could barely breathe without experiencing extreme pain. He stopped going out completely, opting to spend his time in his apartment, remembering his life and working on how he was going to say goodbye to everyone. His phone was cluttered with concerned messages from his friends, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t coming over anymore, if he was OK. 

It hurt Wonshik to reply to all the messages like he was fine, knowing full well he wouldn’t live to see the next month. It seemed like it’d been ages since he last went out to spend time with all his friends and he felt guilty. But in his current condition, there was little he could do about it.

Then came a day when the pain felt like it was 3 times worse. Wonshik could barely move and it felt like someone poured gasoline on the fire already going strongly in his throat. Nevertheless, he managed to get from his room to the bathroom to cough up the first petals of the day. 

The blood stained pink camellia petals littered the bathroom floor, a sign of love without hope. Through the day, the coughing only got worse and worse, till Wonshik could barely breathe anymore. His throat sore and his breath ragged, Wonshik lay in his bed, surrounded by the pink camellia petals, crying softly. At some point, he drifted off to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at a scene that felt vaguely familiar. Looking around, he realised he was in his favourite cafe. All the colours were a bit warmer than usual though. It took him a moment to realise that the person sitting by the window staring at the raindrops trickling down the glass pane of the window of the cafe was him. 

His breath caught in his throat as the scene clicked in his memory. At the same time, the Wonshik in the dream or memory sighed and looked back down at the many verses of unfinished songs and poems littered in front of him. Wonshik watched himself sit there, writing and erasing, pouring out his heart onto the sheets in his notebooks. He shut his eyes, recalling what had happened next. 

-

_He was writing vigorously when a quiet ‘Excuse me’ caused him to look up. Standing next to his table was the most beautiful human being Wonshik had ever seen. Eyes wide, Wonshik took in this handsome stranger._

_He was tall and slim, and he carried a bag filled with blue books. A blue sweater hung loosely off his frame complimenting his pale skin and the deep blue eyes that looked out from behind silky black hair, drawing Wonshik in._

_A nervous cough alerted Wonshik to the fact that he had been staring, and he quickly looked away. The stranger asked if it was ok if he could sit in the empty seat opposite Wonshik and Wonshik felt like screaming ‘Yes, please do, and please never leave’’._

_He opted instead for a more sane sounding, ‘Sure, make yourself comfortable’ and the stranger sat down. He introduced himself as Taekwoon and they sat there together in silence, till Wonshik became aware of the other’s eyes on him. He glanced up and Taekwoon nervously glanced away. This repeated itself a few times till Taekwoon asked him what he was writing. From there, they started a conversation and by the time Wonshik got up to leave he felt like he’d know the stranger, no, Taekwoon, for years._

-

Wonshik opened his eyes and looked down at the Wonshik and Taekwoon in the dream. He smiled wryly. That was when it started. From then on, whenever he met Taekwoon in the cafe, they’d sit together and talk about all kinds of things. After a while, they started meeting elsewhere. 

Taekwoon took a real interest in his writing and Wonshik found himself sharing pieces with him that he’d sworn he’d never show anyone. Taekwoon was a pianist and a truly talented one at that. Wonshik could spend hours listening to him playing. They spent more and more time together and, in all honesty, Wonshik wasn’t surprised when he found that he had fallen for Taekwoon. And he’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, Taekwoon had fallen for him too.

Wonshik blinked and the scene changed. The colours were duller and colder and the atmosphere was melancholy. Wonshik saw himself sitting at a table in a bar with Taekwoon and Hakyeon. This was a memory he didn’t like to call to mind, it was the memory of the day he lost his hope. 

Wonshik watched his past self meet the love of his life’s boyfriend with a heavy heart. He remembered how he’d felt, it was like someone had grabbed his heart with an iron grip and was squeezing all the life out of it. He’d smiled and congratulated Taekwoon but on the inside, he was falling apart. 

Wonshik watched himself get up and leave, giving an excuse about having something to do. He watched himself practically run out of the bar in the direction of his home. And though he couldn’t see it happening, he knew exactly what happened next. Heartbreak, tears, regret. And a mask of happiness created and diligently maintained.

-

Wonshik awoke with a jolt, gasping for breath, his cheeks stained with tears. He stared up at the ceiling blankly for a while, thinking about the vivid dream he’d just had. The pain in his throat was still there. Letting out a sigh, he sat up with difficulty. 

Feeling the urge to cough, he staggered to the bathroom and coughed up what seemed like thousands of pink, blood stained petals. Exhausted from his coughing fit, Wonshik went back to bed, lying down and making himself comfortable. 

As he lay there, a warm feeling enveloped him and he was struck with memories, good memories, of his life. His senses were hazy. He thought he heard a door opening, but thought nothing of it. 

Sighing, Wonshik rolled over onto his side. The pain that had become a constant in his life seemed to alleviate and for the first time in a while, he felt at peace. This must be the end. Taekwoon really was the death of him. But for Taekwoon, he would do anything, even die because of his feelings. 

Vaguely he recalled the poem he’d read on the small site back when he first got hanahaki. Letting out a soft chuckle, he closed his eyes. It seemed silly, but Wonshik wanted to believe there was at least a little hope. A tear rolled down his cheek and he smiled softly. The last thing he heard was the sound of someone calling his name before his chest squeezed painfully and everything faded to black.

-

Taekwoon was worried. He hadn’t seen Wonshik in weeks and he wasn’t answering his phone anymore. So he had decided to check up on him. But it didn’t seem like anyone was home. He’d knocked multiple times out of courtesy before getting frustrated and grabbing the spare key Wonshik had given him who knows how long ago.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Having unlocked the door, he walked in cautiously. No lights were on and there really didn’t appear to be anyone home. Taekwoon proceeded further into the apartment, which, he absently noted, smelt faintly of flowers. 

Still, there was no sign of Wonshik. Taekwoon was about to give up and go home when he noticed the door to Wonshik’s room was slightly open. Being careful not to make too much noise, Taekwoon inched towards the door. Opening it, he carefully peeped in. The room was a mess, and the smell of flowers seemed stronger than ever. Wonshik was lying on the bed, his back to the door.

Taekwoon breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief quickly gave way to concern. He called Wonshik’s name, but he didn’t answer. He must be asleep then. 

Taekwoon walked over and gently shook Wonshik’s shoulder. No response. Frowning, he shook a bit harder. Still nothing. A bad feeling started to twist in his gut as he tried, again and again, to shake Wonshik awake. 

Panic began to seep into his bones as he grabbed Wonshik’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He found none. Still, calling Wonshik’s name, Taekwoon desperately checked him for any signs of life. Still, he found none. 

Wonshik’s pulse was no longer there, the steady beat that indicated life missing from his still body. He wasn’t breathing either. He had tear streaks on his face and all around there were petals, petals, and more petals. Confusion and fear flooded Taekwoon's senses and he tried and tried in vain to wake Wonshik up. Yes. To wake him up. Because he was just asleep. Wonshik couldn’t possibly be…

Dead. Wonshik was dead, the nurse informed Taekwoon. He’d died of suffocation as a result of hanahaki. 

Hanahaki

The word rang in Taekwoon’s ears, taunting and tormenting him.

Hanahaki

The rare but deadly disease caused when two people are fated to be but one rejects the other. Judging by the way the nurse was looking at him, she clearly thought he had something to do with it. But he didn’t. Did he?

It couldn't have been him who was Wonshik's destined partner. Wonshik deserved someone better than him. But what if it really was him..? No, it couldn't be. Right?

Thinking back to the experiences he shared with Wonshik, Taekwoon looked at them in a new light. He saw how Wonshik handled him like he was the most precious human being in the world, how he trusted him and opened up to him. He saw how Wonshik let himself be vulnerable around him, how he lowered his guard and was himself around him. He remembered how Wonshik seemed to close off every time he spoke of Hakyeon and how his smile would turn forced and kind of pained. He saw the wistfulness and longing in Wonshik’s eyes as he regarded him from afar, almost like he was something forbidden to him. He saw how no matter what, Wonshik was there for him, even when he hurt him. He saw, for the first time, just how much Wonshik loved him. Loved him. Not loves. Loved.

Overcome with sudden emotion, Taekwoon struggled to keep his face straight as the nurse gave him a look of pity. Excusing himself, he quickly left the room.  
He walked faster and faster through the hospital looking frantically for an exit. The white walls seemed to close in on him as he went, reminding him of why he was at this hospital.

Wonshik was dead. Wonshik was dead because of him. He killed Wonshik.

Taekwoon broke into a run, tears streaming freely down his face now. He burst out of the hospital and ran and ran and ran. How could he be so blind? How could he have let this happen? Taekwoon felt like screaming. How could he have let Wonshik die? How could he have just lived in his own happy bubble, oblivious to his friend’s pain? 

Friend. The word felt wrong. Wonshik was never a friend. He was always more. And Taekwoon had been too blind to see it. Stopping to catch his breath, Taekwoon took in his surroundings. Without intending to, his feet had inadvertently carried him to Wonshik’s apartment building. 

Tears still streaming down his face, Taekwoon dazedly made his way into the building and up to where Wonshik’s apartment was. Fumbling for the key, he opened the door and entered the apartment.

Sitting down on the worn couch in the living room, he tried to calm down. Key word being ‘tried’. It seemed the more he tried to calm down, the more he cried. It hurt. It felt like a part of him had been brutally ripped out. And he knew why. Wonshik was dead. Dead. Not alive. Deceased. Gone. Because of him.

“Wonshik you idiot, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t I see?”

He wasn’t sure just how long he sat there crying, cursing himself for being so ignorant. At some point he dozed off, sniffling even as he slept. When he woke up, it was dark outside and he couldn’t feel his legs.

His whole body numb from sleeping in an awkward position, Taekwoon slowly sat up and looked around. Memories of what had happened flooded his mind and he choked back a sob. Slowly, he got up and shakily made his way to the door. 

On his way out, something caught his eye. It was just a simple folded paper on the table near the door but it grabbed his attention and wouldn’t let go. Curiosity getting the best of him, he picked up the paper. On one side, his name was written in blue pen. The other side was blank. Fingers trembling, Taekwoon unfolded the paper. Inside, there was a poem.

This is a beautiful lie  
My last lie  
Even if it hurts to death  
I am hiding myself under a mask for you  
It’s a beautiful pain  
Letting you go  
I have to kill myself inside  
Swallow my tears  
And put on a smiling mask  
You are my fantasy  
Just my fantasy  
I know that it’s over  
The end of me was you  
Please be happy  
So that at least my lie can shine

Letting out a choked sob, Taekwoon sank to the floor. Wonshik really had a way with words. As he read the poem he could feel Wonshik’s emotional turmoil, the sadness, longing and love in the words. It hit him hard, right in the heart. Taekwoon felt like part of him was missing, like his soul had been torn to pieces. He had let Wonshik die. Because of him, Wonshik was dead. Taekwoon sat there and cried till he had no more tears to cry. 

-

On a small website in the corner of the internet, it was written;

One felt it, the connection so strong  
The other didn’t, so things went wrong  
Flower petals everywhere  
The one who once loved is no longer there  
But in another life to come  
A chance is presented, only to some  
A second chance to love one another  
To make amends and be together  
One cursed to search until he’s numb  
The price for dooming the fated love  
The other waits, for what he’s not sure  
The flowers that ended him decorating his skin  
But if one day, their paths do cross  
A chance meeting, a twist of fate  
He with flowers patterned across his chest  
Will welcome the wanderer, the bond finally at rest

There is still hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally done! I've been writing this since May lmao  
> I'm so slow ;u;
> 
> The end is a mess tbh  
> I wasn't planning to add Taekwoon's POV but it just happened  
> Oh welp
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Criminal_Master_Mind, my Tumblr buddy and the writer of one of the angstiest fics I've ever read. Appreciate it pls -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11145867/chapters/24867216
> 
> Wonshik's poem is made up of a mix of Beautiful Liar and Fantasy's lyrics. The last poem, I made up.
> 
> I'm such a hypocrite lol every time I read a fic I want it to end happily yet when I write my own everyone is plunged into despair and sadness  
> Tbh this was only supposed to be like 500 words long but the story decided that it wanted to be longer so here we are now :')  
> I plan to write more in this AU tho  
> You can view the poem at the end as a sort of teaser ;)
> 
> Feel free to yell at me in the comments.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
